


don't you know love is easy?

by babyboymatt



Series: song titles [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: :'') i need better platonic relationships, yet another title brought to you by olliemn on vine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:36:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8214515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyboymatt/pseuds/babyboymatt
Summary: mostly a vent?? idk man school sucks and i wanna sleep forever lmaoa bunch of drabbles that i've been wanting to write out in my head, enjoytitle is from this vine: https://vine.co/v/igeHpH2YuhZ





	

it started out with a note.

well, not a sticky note or a reminder that's written too quickly on an A5 sheet of paper, but a music note. close to middle c but not quite an a sharp, just the right amount of vibration to make me look up from the book I'd been reading. the part of the book I had been thrown out of was the climax - the boy getting the girl, but oh wait! this had been the villain's plan all along! - so my brain had forgotten that I had spent my lunch period in the music room. although I usually can tell which instrument is playing (a special skill of mine), my thoughts were so scattered that I couldn't figure it out. it sounded like a warm fire, an autumn night, it was a soothing sound that I spotted immediately.

"Thursday?" I sputter. "You play?"

"Oh, just a few chords. Nothing too impressive."

I stand up, walking over to the boy. "How could I not know you play guitar?"

* * *

 my number is three.

three layers of my birthday cake, make her say it three times, clean the bathroom mirror three times.

the three main resolutions to being alive, three ways to kill another person with air, the three times I fell deep in love.

her number is four.

vacuum the carpet four times in a row, four items on her grocery list, the four times she made a scar. 

four reasons why she won't tell you why, the four ways she wants to be buried, four bowls of cereal in the morning.

 

three reasons why I should die in my sleep, and her four reasons why she's right.

* * *

 I know I'm tired when my vision blurs and doubles simultaneously and I'm dancing to my own heartbeat. you see, I'd rather dance to something else, not a reminder that I'm living, right here right now, but it's twelve in the morning and my parents wouldn't allow me anything more. I'll apologize to my knobby knees and my stubby fingers, but _I have to get this energy under control_.

* * *

"hm," he mumbles under his breath. "uh da, la da, da." 

"doo," she whispers to the ground. "doo da, dee doo, uh, da." 

the rhythmic serenades continue as they walk past each other, notes harmonising and them stopping in their tracks. they continue to hum to each other.

"ah, la da da, uh da," she snaps her fingers. "unss, dee da, la."

"babada da," he counters. "boodo baba, ah lala, da dee."

they smile and stop, hugging one another. 

"I've been waiting for you," she squeezes him lightly. "soulmate."

"right back at you," he rests his head on her shoulder. "soulmate."

 

**Author's Note:**

> wow these are gross but hey, at least i'm writing!! ahah a i feel awful :''') i promise i"ll update my spideypool within this month (maybe)!! sorry about the wait ;; hope you guys are well <3 make sure to eat food and drink lots of water and take you meds (if you have them) and try to get at least six hours of sleep, okay?? take care of yourselves


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